The Piano Player
by XxFlowerAngelxX
Summary: Without a word, his hands folded themselves onto the keys and a new melody rang out. This one was familiar to me. "Moonlight Sonata?" I asked unsurely. "Hn," was his curt reply. I couldn't see his face, but somehow, I had a feeling he was smirking.


Chapter 1: No Surprise with a Little Curiosity

-Sakura-

I had never really paid much attention to people at school.

Maybe it was because I was too busy to care.

Or perhaps because most are silly teenagers that I simply cannot relate to.

And, or course, you can throw in there the fact that Ino drills me on the daily gossip so much I've become accustomed to ignoring her chattering.

So the fact that there was a beautiful boy who plays the piano in school who I didn't know was not a surprise to me.

Not one bit

I had become accustomed to spending my free periods in the music room, where I found company among the tall black music stands, low blue chairs, and of course, the old, grandfatherly piano. I didn't know how to play the piano, but I liked to sit at the bench and amuse myself with the keys once in a while. Or lean my head against the cool keys after a long English lecture. Sometimes, I'd even fold down the wooden cover that was supposed to protect the keys and use it as a mini desk to do my homework on. It all depended on my mood really.

So one day, after sitting through another _wonderful exposition_ on basic grammar usage that tenth graders at Konoha High School just can't seem to get the hang of, slowly made my way down to the always empty music room (Why did I assume it was always empty? Because our budget hasn't been able to cover music programs for over five years so there are never classes in there). Only…it wasn't empty.

From down the hall, I was surprised to hear not only the hollow thumps of my boots on the ground, but also music, from the music room (which I had never heard before, ironically).

Someone was playing the piano.

My first reaction was to walk the other way. I had never been one who was good at confronting strangers. I was not Ino, who could make friends in an instant as soon as she twirls her hair or bats her eyelashes. I would walk down to the library and pick up a good book to read.

But just as I was about to turn around, curiosity got the best of me. Who was playing the piano? I racked my brain for potential musical people. I couldn't find any of course, because we had not music program so I had never glimpsed anyone holding an instrument or cracking down on a piece of sheet music.

So I gave myself an excuse. Kiba Inuzuka was probably down at the library since he had third period free too. Not wanting to put up with his excessive flirting and that sly smile, I stomped towards the music room with new found determination.

I opened the door silently and slipped inside. If the mysterious player realized an audience, he didn't show it because the beautiful melody did not break. His face was turned way from me, focused on the keys in front of him. He didn't have any sheet music on the stand, yet he played with no hesitation or mistakes. From behind, I saw a tall, lean boy, with an ample amount of black hair. His clothes were simple: black long-sleeved T-shirt and regular denim jeans. His long arms moved quickly up and down the keys, successfully executing the sound of a trickling waterfall.

I stood there silently for a while, my eyes fastened to the back of his head. By now, I was pretty sure that he realized someone was watching him. It's amazing how he can go on to finish the piece with such a carefree manner. Anyone else would've whipped their head around to see who was listening, showing fake aggravation that someone was disturbing them, while silently pleased that they had caught someone's attention. This boy seemed to not care even if an earthquake struck the school. He kept playing.

After a few more minutes, his fingers suddenly slowed down. He gently hit the very last keys and held the pedal down to resonate the last note. Once he was satisfied with the duration of the tone, he lifted the pedal up and placed his hands in his lap. Finally he turned around to face me.

I was surprised for two reasons. The first and foremost thing that I noticed was that he was beautiful. No, not _hot_. Not _cute_. But undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful. The kind of face you'd see chiseled out of marble in a museum. Or perhaps the face that would beam at you, attached to a pair of white wings, if you're into that angel stuff. His features were nothing less than perfection, with deep, hard set eyes, a straight, sharp nose, a defined jaw live, and full lips pressed into a line.

And second, his expression. It was…blank. The only way I could describe it. There wasn't a hint of aggravation for being disturbed, nor were there any signs that he was pleased. He did not raise an eyebrow to demand why I was listening to him. Nor was he friendly to smile and introduce himself. He merely stared at me with blank, slate black eyes.

I bit my lip, taking his silence as a demand for me to explain myself. My thoughts were too jumbled to come up with a passable excuse, so I merely told him the truth. "I usually come here during my free periods. The room has always been empty, so I was surprised when I heard someone playing the piano…"

He blinked, but still said nothing. I quickly of things to say (anything) to fill up the silence.

"My name is Sakura Haruno…what's yours?" I asked, trying to seem casual. It wasn't his perfect face that was making me nervous (maybe a little) but those hard, unwavering eyes.

"Sasuke Uchiha," He replied in a low, smooth voice. I decided that I had never heard his voice before, taking him in as the quiet type.

I tried to give him an honest smile. After all, he was a pretty interesting person. "Nice to meet you Sasuke…You play the piano very well…what was the name of the song?" I asked.

I finally broke his penetrating stare at me, and turned to the keys. "Arabesque #1, by Debussy," he replied quietly. I couldn't see his expression, but his voice seemed incomprehensibly sad for some unknown reason. I decided not to voice my opinion on it.

We stayed in silence for a while; neither of us really knew what to say. Finally I suggested, "Will you play another piece?"

He turned silently and his back faced me once again. Without a word, his hands folded themselves onto the keys and a new melody rang out. This one was familiar to me.

"Moonlight Sonata?" I asked unsurely.

"Hn," was his curt reply. I couldn't see his face, but somehow, I had a feeling he was smirking.


End file.
